


The Prince's Tale

by Arthurianlover



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: AU, Action, Camelot, Court Sorcerer Merlin, Dragons, Drama & Romance, Eventual Romance, Excalibur, Inspired by Novel, Knights - Freeform, M/M, Magic, Merlin - Freeform, Merthur - Freeform, Morgana - Freeform, Romance, Teen Romance, War, bbc merlin - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-17
Updated: 2015-08-17
Packaged: 2018-04-15 07:32:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4598217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arthurianlover/pseuds/Arthurianlover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A harsh attack on Camelot leaves one young survivor: Arthur Pendragon. When the smoke clears and the dawn appears it is clear what he must do: take back Excalibur from the hands of an evil woman and avenge his kingdom's death. The Journey will lead him to a lanky and mysterious warlock who may be his only hope and, the epic trial of becoming King. Dont forget to leave a review!</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Prince's Tale

**Based on Archer's tale by Bernard Cornwall**

The mighty sword Excalibur was stolen from Camelot on the high of a rainy night.

It was a majestic sword, crafted from the grandest element found on earth and forged in Dragon's breath. It was wonderment that so awesome of a thing should have been kept in the center of the village square. Some said it had no business being in the center of town where the elements could break the glass case just as easily as people who got the wrong thoughts in their head. It belonged by the king's side they thought. Only fools said so out loud. Some said it was a fake. Superficial men sometimes wandered up and down the green of the kingdom calling out that they had the _true_ Excalibur. Most times it was no more than cheap metal fasted by wire to a lifeless handle. Most bought them. "We'd be hard press if we tried to sell the real sword by the bayside like these men. No one would realize it was the real thing they would be too busy buying the fake." Uther laughed.

It had been Uther who had bandied a bag of heavy coins for the iron to make the sword. He had scoured the country side until he found a man willing enough to part with the precious rare metal that was the raw form of magic. When he secured the exchange he took it back to his fort base and then sought the dragon deep below the rocks to forge his sword in. He wanted something to surpass any other king that had ruled in Albion and be the first to mold the raw magic into something a man could use to state his claim. For twenty years it had stayed in the glass case in the center of town glaring back at all who passed though the town to come to the gates of Camelot. It was a calling card for power and might and no man dare to challenge Uther with it on display. It was only ever bought out for ceremonies of importance. It was cleaned every day, mind you, but kept in the case to show diligence.

The best protection it had over all was the peace surrounding the kingdom. The vast kingdom lay on the growing green hills of Albion. It was surrounded on all sides by either mountains or thick forest. Before Uther at become king, in the 1300's war had plagued the kingdom. The lands were painted with blood and dying men as greed and lust battle for the throne. It was only when Uther had come charring in on his white worse horse on the eve of the last deathly battle with Excalibur raised and men followed his spilling over the hills like ants that peace was won and Albion had a new king. Once a peace treaty was settled and smaller kingdoms and fiefs began to form did things begin to settle into normalcy.

Camelot, like every kingdom in the 1400's, practiced religion. So it was only practical that the kingdom would hold vigil over Christmas. Camelot had no godly or saintly relics to be heard of. While the inhabits of Camelot's halls went to mass every Sunday they did not hold tightly to the beliefs of old bones and other odds and ends people dubbed relics. He handpicked five men whom he trusted and set them to watch over the sword in the glass case as to prove to the village and barons near and some far that he did so believe in God and would keep the evil spirts away from their precious relic that bought peace and safety to them all. Next to the case lay a table burden with a dragon crested bowl filled with the sweetest red wine around.

The dragon was part of the unknown history of Uther Pendragon. No one knew who the man was or if Pendragon was even his real surname. He would not talk about his past and when provoked by curious brown noses he simply pursed his lips and stared with gilded eyes. They, those that had been at war at the time over the high seat of Albion-now named Camelot-, had accepted him as king for he had defeated all the kings and barons on the battle field rightly and fairly. Uther picked a spot on at the top of a hill overlooking the forest and built his castle. It was then he met Guias and named his chief advisor. Gaius was a physician who had taken care of the village down the road and, after the war, tended to Uther's wounds. Uther enjoyed the man's wit and wisdom so much he made his castle Physician and advisor in matter trivial and costly. The physician was a learned man. He collected books which, it seemed, to be most popular among the castle and the outside village. It was known that many people in those days, save some of the nobles, were learned. People would flock to Gaius' chambers which lie below the throne room and poke their head in and marvel at the vast tomes. There was Latin, Greek, and science, collection of handwritings from famous people, magic books, story books, and other kinds not afore mentioned. Alas, Gaius was not a people person and was pleasant enough but shooed the onlookers away after a while. He would then settle down, with his gray hair glinting in the fire place, his hefty body settled down in a chair and his robes around him for warmth. He wondered at them men outside and whished them luck on their vigil.

The five men in question were on their knees devotedly taking in the rain starting to pitter patter on their armor as it creaked and became heavier on their bodies. The candle that had been lit blew in the wind as if trying to run before tampering out.

That was when Leon, junior captain on the castle guard, elbowed Ser Benedict whose eyes were starting to flutter shut. "Stay awake now or you'll be havin' it from the captain on the 'morrow."

Benedict just snorted, shook his head, wiped the rain from his eyes and looked at the case with the sword, "No evil spirt is going to come and take this sword away. Why there hasn't been any threat in ages mind you. We are just wasting time we could be sleeping or drinking."

"Or burying our face in a warm bosom of a woman," Elkton, Benedict's brother, sighed.

"All you ever think about is women. How you two became a knight is beyond me," Leon resorted moving from left to leg making his chainmail squeak.

"Arthur wouldn't know all about that," Cornwall smirked at Arthur who kept his face impassive.

Arthur was the youngest of the five men out her and it showed in his face, body and hair. While the other men had fading hair color and the lean and built out body covered with scars and old wounds, Arthur was short in a way that made him pudgy a little in the middle with some muscle, bright blonde hair, and almost no wounds of war on him- besides those earn in the tourney ring.

"Hush now," Leon snapped, "Pay attention do your duty and enough talking!"

"well you can't say it's not true! He's never been to the brothels nor accepts when the ladies at the Rising Sun offer him a bed. "Cajoled Benedict

"Maybe he just has better taste then you, brother," Elkton replied in kind.

Arthur just shrugged. It wasn't that he was not interested in the pleasures of two soles or did not know how to love. It was the fact that he was simply not fancied by women. At all. It was a secret he kept tightly to himself.

Then men were quit and only the crickets talked until cornwall stood. "I need to make water." He began to walk across to the wooded area behind them when he stopped and cocked his head at Arthur. "Where's your bow?"

Arthur turned to look at him, "My father would not approve of such a weapon. Said bows are not beneficial to my station and rank." Arthur spat and frowned, "He doesn't know much, for a big man. He just wants to be weighed down with a heavy sword. To me it seems a way to be asking for a hurried death if you ask me which he doesn't."

"Have you talked to him about your future? What you decided?" Leon trailed off asking a question and forgetting for a moment his sharp rebuke of not talking.

"No." Arthur stood up, "I need to piss." So he went to go make water in the woods in the dark.

That was when the first screams began to rise from the end of the village.

**Should i continue? Let me know in the comments:)**


End file.
